


This is Going to be a Clusterfuck

by AnAngryRat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Birdcage AU, Crack, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humans, Lot's of Alcohol, M/M, gender fluid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAngryRat/pseuds/AnAngryRat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles' adopted son Isaac shows up with some good news and bad news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Going to be a Clusterfuck

**Author's Note:**

> I diverge from the canon in the movie because it felt a little less offensive that way. Stiles is gender fluid and I switch pronouns when Derek thinks he's female or male. If that's confusing I apologize. I didn't edit much... (Also it's unbeta'd and I'm bad at proof reading. Sorry for any mistakes!)

Derek shifted through the crowd watching over his club, talking to the big spenders and doing his best to make sure the system ran smoothly. He was bounding up back stage as the music number to a catchy pop song, which he hated, was playing as his drag stars danced and bounced around on stage. He sighed idly thinking about investing in a pair of earplugs, he was so tired of this song. In fact he hated all the music in his own club.

The stage manager turned a worry glance towards him barely taking his eyes off from the clipboard. When Boyd was worried that meant the worst.

“What’s up,” he yelled over the speakers.

“Sasha, hasn’t come down and she’s on in five,” answered pleadingly. Last time Sasha bailed Derek made Boyd talk her back into it and he loathed Sasha. Derek breathed deeply.

“I’ll go get her.”

Boyd look relieved. Derek turned and ran towards the private dressing room. He knocked. The door swiftly opened only to have it slammed in his face immediately after.

“Leave! I’m hideous! No one loves me,” wailed the door. Derek rolled his eyes and forcefully kicked the door open. Its days like these where he wished Stiles hadn’t talked him into starting a drag club. He could have been running a high class club in Miami that sold to twenty something’s with canned tans.

“Stiles,” he said quietly. He was hunched over in a corner covering his face with Scott crouched over him looking helpless at his dramatics. Derek took pity on the poor kid and tilted his head giving him permission to leave the room. Scott looked back nervously at Stiles ‘sobbing’ form before he tiptoed out of the room.

He touched his shoulder gently. Stiles whirled around suddenly furious at him. Derek backed away hands up and defensive.

“You’ve found someone else haven’t you,” he hissed. What?

“Yes, I’m cheating on you after investing so much time and effort into making my best star my husband, I’ve decided that it’s too much,” Derek said dry as the Sahara. Stiles went to punch him and Derek caught his hand.

“You asshole!”

“Can we argue about this later, the people really need to see Sasha, and she doesn’t even have her make up on yet?”

Stiles pulled his arm up and away grumbling curses under his breath.

“She won’t go on until you tell me who you’re sleeping with while I’m being beautiful on stage.”

“No one,” Derek said truthfully. He wasn’t sleeping with anyone. Stiles threw himself on the ground at his feet sobbing.

            “Why do you lie to me? You just hate me now that I’m _old_!!”

            “You’re on next Sasha,” Boyd said strolling into the room and out almost on the same breath after catching Stiles on his knees in front of Derek. Derek caught the other man’s eyes and made a subtle nod to stay.

            “Put Carmen on Sasha is a no go tonight.” Stiles heard this and fierceness crossed his eyes.

            “Alri-“

            “NO!” Stiles screamed suddenly up on his feet and standing up with perfect posture, “I’ll go on. Do not fear!”

            Derek refused to roll his eyes at the show. It would only egg him on more. Boyd nodded looking relieved to finally leave the room. Stiles immediately went over to the mirror and started fixing herself for show.

            “I know your cheating on me,” she said assuredly, “I don’t know why or with who but just know to hide the wine better, I know you only drink red.”

            Derek swallowed feeling the small rush of warmth he felt every time she noticed the small things in his life. He leaned over to kiss her cheek.

            “I’m not cheating on you.”

            *

            Derek watched Sasha begin her act a fond smile finding its way to his face. He couldn’t stay for the whole show like he usually does he thought woefully. Turning away he walked outside and around until he reached the stairs leading to the loft.  He dressed out of his casual business suit into a Henley and a pair of worn jeans before padding into the kitchen.

            Scott was still there singing _Hooked on a Feeling_ in a pair of short-shorts and a tank top. Derek frowned.

            “What are you doing here?”

            Scott jumped a mile in the air clutching his heart before answering.

            “Just wanted to make sure you aren’t cheating on him,” Scott said handing him the cooled wine with a dubious look. Derek took it.

            “Leave or I’ll tell Stiles you broke his Iron Man figurine.”

            Scott narrowed his eyes betrayed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

            “Try me.”

            The other man huffed and walked out of the loft slamming the door behind him. Derek went to the balcony that could be reached via the fire escape and found Isaac there looking petulant.

            Derek smiled at him reassuringly.

            “Stiles is on stage and Scotts off for the night, probably left to Kira’s, so it’s just me and you liked you asked.”

            Isaac returned his smile nervously. Derek patted him on the knee then poured each of them wine.

            “Soooo,” Isaac started before even sipping his drink, “I’m getting married.”

            Derek’s eyes bugged out and he tossed the glass into the pool before grabbing the bottle and taking a chug. He didn’t answer until he had a buzz going no matter how distressed Isaac was sounding.

            “Aren’t you a little young to marry,” Derek finally asked. Isaac started defending himself and Allison vigorously like he had been planning for this question.

            “I’m head of my frat, I know how a working relationship looks like from my awesome parents, she’s half way to getting a double major in sports and journaling, we’ve been dating for three years, and she asked me.”

            Derek rubbed his eyes.

            “We haven’t even met her, we don’t even know Allison’s last name for Christ’s sake,” Derek groaned. He had thought he had a good open communication with his son, he knew he was dating, he knew how his classes were going, but no the kid couldn’t warn him about his sudden engagement. Derek hadn’t even known they were that serious.

            Isaac looked scared and apologetic at the same time.

            “Well you’re gonna learn soon because her parents are coming down next week to meet you guys.”

“What?”

“Senator Argent, her husband, and Allison are all coming down next weekend to meet you.”

Derek stood up suddenly pissed.

“ _Senator Argent?”_

“Yeah, I’m engaged to Allison Argent.” Isaac shrugged. Senator Argent who is openly anti-LGBTQ and who agrees with Rush Limbaugh is coming to see Derek and Stiles in their little drag queen haven.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Derek didn’t realize how loud he was until he saw Isaac flinch. He immediately sat and calmed down.

“To be honest, I thought we had more time to work you into the idea before meeting the bigoted in-laws, but Allison called and said that her parents were not only pissed but on a war path to come meet you.”

Derek sighed heavily running through his words over and over. He froze catching onto something.

“You don’t want them to meet Stiles.”

Isaac looked ashamed of himself. Derek wanted to say he agreed because of the two of them he was less feminine, only because he never actually dressed. But it was mostly because Stiles would probably murder them before they entered the door. Not that Derek wouldn’t mind letting him do just that but it was his son’s fiancé’s parents and he wanted to make a good impression. Derek sighed again.

“You have to tell him,” he said getting up with the rest of the wine. Isaac groaned and tossed his drink into the pool alongside Derek’s.

“I only told you first so I wouldn’t have to.”

Derek was half way to the couch when he said, “Don’t fucking care. He’s your father you deal with is.”

“You’re his husband.”

“It’s your problem.”

“That I loved someone?”

“That you tied yourself to someone who shuns our life style.”

Isaac dropped beside him taking away the bottle and drinking from it wiping his mouth.

“Allison’s not like that. I’m sure she’ll love you and Stiles.”

“If you are so sure,” Derek said leaning over until his shoulder hit the cushion, “then you tell him.”

“Yes,” Isaac answered resigned.

Derek covered his eyes with an arm. This was going to be such a clusterfuck.

*

“ _Baby_!!!” Stiles cried jumping on top of Isaac and smothering him with love. He looked over at Derek with a pout. “Why didn’t you tell me your secret man was, Baby?”

Derek looked darkly at his son who was still entangled in Stiles’ arms.

“I’m sure he can explain.”

Isaac coughed apologetically and pulled away from Stiles who sat down next to Derek and looked up expectantly at him.

“Remember Allison?”

“Yes?”

“We are getting married.”

Stiles bit his lip practically vibrating with excitement. Derek placed a hand over his solemnly. His brows knitted together eyes flicking between Isaac and Derek.

“Her and her parents Senator Argent and her husband Chris are coming over next week end to meet you guys,” Isaac said with fake casualness.

Stiles looked highly unamused.

“You’re fucking with me aren’t you?”

Isaac winced.

“I really wish I were.”

“You decided to marry the girl whose parents will want to burn us at the stake,” Stiles said his tone flat and terrifying. He gripped Derek’s hand tightly.

“Yes,” Isaac said giving his best puppy dog eyes/sheepish grin combo. Stiles got up and walked silently to the kitchen. Derek flipped around on the couch to follow him with his eyes.

“Honey, what are you doing,” Derek asked cautiously. Stiles started picking up pans and testing the weight in his hand.

“Find the right object to use to smack some sense into our son. Or bludgeon our maybe in-laws to death with,” he answered coolly choosing the nine-inch pan and walking with intent towards Isaac who tripped over the ottoman in an attempt to back away. Derek jumped over the back of the couch and intercepted Stiles by grabbing him by the waist.

“No, no, no,” Derek said like a mantra holding on to Stiles who was waving around the pan wildly. Isaac scrambled back up and held his palms up.

“Dad calm down it’s not so bad we have a week to get prepared.” Stiles’ movements became more violent at Isaac’s words. Then his son pulled out the big guns, “Can you please help me with this, _please?”_

Stiles slumped all the fight leaving him. Derek nearly dropped him he went limp so fast.

“Why them?” Stiles said stomping his foot on air still a foot in the air. Derek set him down and went to the kitchen to start mixing drinks and baking cookies. It was what he did when he was stressed. Good thing too because he could both get drunk and call it a break day by eating as many cookies as he wanted.

“Because I’m in love with their daughter.”

Derek turned his head to look over his shoulder in time to watch Stiles’ shoulders slump and his knees turn inward.

“Derek, babe,” he said defeated, “make me a line of peach vodka shots.”

“Sure.”

*

Derek’s lip twitched in a ghost of a smile that grew into a full grown grin as he watched Stiles get more and more frustrated with the bored twenty-something twink he was supposed to be preforming with.

“Cut, cut, cut,” Stiles called kicking the kid.

“Hey,” he whined around the snapping of his gum.

“Could you at least pretend to care?”

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do?”

Stiles turned pleadingly towards Derek who shrugged. He wasn’t the one who created/directed the performances that was Erica and she was gone for the weekend. If he was completely honest he hated ninety-percent of the entertainment here. Stiles huffed dramatically turning his attention towards the twink.

“You could start by spitting out your gum,” Stiles through gritted teeth.

“I can’t do that it helps me think.”

Derek was on the stage a hand on Stiles shoulder stopping him from strangling the little brat before the little fucker could even pop his bubble. They carried a silent conversation that ended in Stiles stomping off to the piano to play a few angry notes. Derek sighed and walked over to the twink. He saw Isaac waving for him frantically in the corner of the club. Derek held up a finger asking for a moment then returning his attention to the bubble popping insolent little shit.

“So you did listen to the song didn’t you,” Derek trailed off waiting for the twink to give him his name.

“Anthony.”

“Tony,” Derek shortened, “so you know that she is your creator, and you never knew about love until you set your sights upon her.” He found himself looking over the twink at Stiles who was glaring hard at Tony. “She is your master and creator and soon to be your unrequited love even though she loves you back.” Derek forced himself to focus on the brat. “You understand?”

Twink paused snapping his gum idly. Derek wanted to sit on his chest force his jaws open and rip the gum and hopefully some teeth out.

“No.”

“CHEW MORE GUM,” Stiles shouted from the back. Derek dropped his head into his hands. He leaned back up smacked the kid on the back of the head making his gum pop out of his mouth catching it.

“Heeeeeey,” the brat whined.

“Just start over again,” Derek instructed hopping off the stage and tossing the gum in the trash. Almost as soon as he rounded the corner for back stage Isaac grabbed him and dragged him back up to the loft.

Isaac locked the door behind them and let go of Derek to go to the middle of the room. Derek pulled out a cigarette. Whatever brought this on was not good.

“It got more complicated,” Isaac said with a no-bullshit-face.

“What got more complicated,” Scott asked as if conjured into the living room by the deep rooted concern. Derek rolled his eyes and lit the cigarette.

“Allison’s parents think you’re an art dealer and married to a woman,” Isaac blurted. Scott’s face pulled inward confused.

“Who’s Allison?”

“My fiancé,” Isaac answered not looking away from Derek. The cigarette was hanging loosely from his mouth as his eyes narrowed in on Isaac.

“Congratulations!” Scott squealed tugging Isaac into a stiff hug.

“What?” Derek finally said. Isaac swallowed.

“We need to find you a fake wife and you need to study up on art.”

Derek took a deep drag from his smokes walking up closer to Isaac.

“I majored in business and history. I don’t know shit about art.”

Isaac looked around the loft with its many decorations. Stiles really had a thing for nicnacs. Derek followed him worried.

“We are also going to have to de-gay the place and you,” Isaac said standing next to a book shelf filled with so many sex books and toys and other paraphernalia Derek was actually a little ashamed he let it sit there for so long. Their house was backwards the comic book and figurine collectables in their bedroom and the sex stuff out in the living room for the world to see. Derek blamed Scott because if he blamed Stiles, the guy would have an entire binder full of research proving that it was both natural and okay to set up a home like this.

“Can’t we just keep it as is and let them be shocked and amazed by the side show attraction I like to call my life,” Derek said a little sadly. He didn’t want to say he was disappointed in his son, but he was, he so was.

Isaac bit his lip looking guilty. He swallowed thickly.

“Allison’s bi and she dated a girl a few years in high school before her girlfriend left to MIT. Her parents are on very thin ice with her because of it and when they asked her about my parents she freaked out and lied.” Isaac scrubbed a frustrated hand through his hair. Scott patted his back sympathetically, trying to look comforting but failing in a crop top and short shorts. “I just don’t want her to get in trouble.”

Derek sighed and nodded his head wanting to help his son no matter how much it went against his personal feelings.

“Okay do you have any plans?”

Isaac looked up at him through his lashes. Derek tensed. Whatever was coming next was going to suck for him.

“We can start by fixing the house.”

“Obviously,” Derek deadpanned. Isaac ignored him.

“Next you can stop wearing mascara.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“I’m not wearing mascara.”

Isaac gently touched his face then dragged his finger along the wall creating a streak of makeup. Derek swallowed.

“Only a true person of quality can wear that much make up and pull it off as well as I do.”  
            Isaac looked unimpressed. Derek put the cigarette to his lips and breathed in the smoke thankful for a distraction.

“Fine no makeup what about Stiles,” Derek conceded.

“He can be my uncle who’s over for the weekend?”

Derek looked at him pained.

“Moving the sex objects from the living room to the bedroom, fine. Pretending I’m straight, I did that for twenty years shouldn’t be too difficult. Pretending not to love your dad? Impossible.”

Isaac shrugged helplessly. “Then what do we do?”

*

Derek watched a tight piece of ass jog by with avid boredom. He never understood why Stiles brought him to the beach. Stiles was always dressed in form fitting swimsuit and graphic T-shirt and sitting under a parasol yet insisted that Derek be shirtless and on a beach towel not in the shade. Also he was aware that Derek hated the beach. Well, Derek loved the sun and the sand it was just the public that got to him. A group of interested young men and women ogled him on their way by. Derek’s brows furrowed deeper in absolute hatred of Florida.

            “How are you?” Derek asked looking at him with faux casualty, trying to distract himself.

            “Fine, how are you,” Stiles said not so subtly watching a plump figure with nice tits roll by on skates.

            “Talked to your dad today.”

            “Uh-huh?”

            “Wanted you down for the weekend,” Derek snuck in subtly.

            “Oh,” Stiles said fainting surprise, and raising Derek’s hackles, he was starting to get suspicious. “You told him no, right? Because we have the second coming of the Salem witch trials coming to our home this weekend.”

            “I told him we’d think about it,” Derek deflected. Stiles raised an eyebrow lips twisted in frustration. Derek felt like giving up all pretenses then and there but he remembered Isaac’s promise to run The Birdcage during summer vacation so he and Stiles could go on an extended cruise to the Bahamas.  Derek had to admit that he taught his kid excellent bartering techniques.

            Stiles yawned and stretched before getting up and closing his parasol. Oh no.

            “I’m tired watching all these youths running around I think I’m going to head home.”

            “But we just got here Stiles can’t you wait another half hour or maybe we could go eat.”

            “No I wanna go home,” Stiles threatened like an ultimatum. Derek dropped his excuses.

            “You’re not going to like what you see there.”

“Are you going to tell me what I’m going to see?”

            Derek thought about it as they strolled through the streets back to the club.

            “Ask Isaac it’s his fault.”

            Stiles chuckled darkly. “He seems to be the root of all evil these past few days.”

            “It’s a shame we let him live past puberty,” Derek said snaking his arm through Stiles’ elbow. Stiles let him hold on laughing brightly.

            “I wondered whatever made him become so convoluted.” They rounded the corner and started heading up the stairs to the loft.

            “He only learned it from the best.” Derek unlocked the door to the now empty apartment. Stiles dropped all of his accessories.

            “Holy shit. Who robbed us,” he shrieked running up to what was once their collection of mm romances that were now replaced with ‘nice’-Derek assumed it was bought at the thrift store down the street-silver ware and porcelain. Isaac walked out from the hallway leading to his bedroom carrying some drapes and paint.

            “Don’t worry it’ll all be back to normal when you-” Derek frantically started gesturing for Isaac to stop “-get back from your vacation with the Sherriff.”

            Stiles went from horrified to done with this bullshit in a nanosecond.

            “Not happening, kiddo. Tell me the down low or I’m kicking you back to college to learn some manners.”

            “She told her parents Derek was married and he was an art connoisseur and we-”

            “ _You.”_ Derek corrected.

            “ _I_ thought it best that, we as a family fake it without you.”

            Stiles’ jaw dropped.

            “Because you thought I was ‘gayer’ than that cock sucker,” he jerked his thumb at Derek, “who needs to eat ass once a week or he becomes grumpy and waxed his chest along with a manipedi every Monday for ten _years._ ”

            Isaac looked pained for a moment and made a strangled gurgling sound. Derek’s ears were burning. He could relate. Isaac dropped everything he was carrying, turned on his heel and stomped down the hall yelling, “Do what you want just don’t be here after I’ve spent a couple of hours bleaching my brain.”

            Now it was Stiles making the hurt noise. Derek came up to hug him but he jerked out of his reach. Scott slid slowly out of the kitchen to view the after math. Derek grabbed his sandal and flung it at him making him whirl back into the kitchen. Derek sighed at the world in general turning towards Stiles who was slumped on the floor.

            “I didn’t know he had a favorite parent.”

            Derek cupped his cheek.

            “He doesn’t. You just permanently traumatized him again, it’s almost your guys’ routine.”

            Stiles bit his lip and looked the closest Derek has actually seen him to crying, real actual tears instead of fake dramatics, since their wedding. Stiles didn’t get emotional or attached to a lot of things. Seeing him like this made Derek feel lost. 

“He said he didn’t want to see me,” Stiles argued voice wet. “Was it the other night? I was never actually going to hit him, ya know? Is he ashamed that I’m a drag queen? Do I need to sto—”

Derek shushed him immediately.

“No, it’s none of that. He loves you and is proud of you no matter what. When he first got here he told me he knew what a working relationship looked like because of us. Trust me the only reason he wants you gone is probably the mental image you gave him of me eating you out.”

Stiles chuckled thickly at that and put his head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek pulled him closer rubbing his back.

“Maybe I should leave for a little bit,” he eventually choked out. Derek shook his head nuzzling into his temple.

“No, stay. You can be his dad. I don’t want to be his dad at the moment.”

Stiles’ shoulders shook and Derek couldn’t tell if it was in laughter or in tears. Stiles got up soon after not responding and just walked out the door. Derek called for him but he didn’t turn. Scott ran after him and came back a few minutes later shaking his head with Derek still sitting in the middle of the floor.

“He said he needed a walk,” Scott murmured walking back to the kitchen to finish whatever he had been doing. Derek dropped his head in his hands.

“Awesome.”

*

“Where’s Pops?”

Derek looked up from the glass of whiskey with an unimpressed glare.

“I don’t know but I’m sure if you reject his way of living again we might never see him, and considering he is the love of my life I’d rather that not happen.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes, you should probably go apologize to your father when he’s sad like this he tends to climb into the trees in the park three blocks down.”

“Fuck I’m so sor—“

“Don’t talk to me until Stiles is back,” Derek said downing the rest of the liquid.

There was some rustling then the hard slam of the front door being shut. Derek scrubbed his face and picked up the phone to call Erica to see if she wouldn’t mind being Isaac’s fake mother for a day.

*

Isaac and Stiles stumbled in an hour after Derek’s entire cast employee’s left from redecorating their house. It took an extra fifteen minutes and three shoes to get Scott to leave their house for once. Derek was nursing whiskey and a cigarette staring at the city street when Stiles joined him on the patio.

“This is going to be a giant clusterfuck,” he stated slumping down into the seat to the right of Derek. He grabbed the whiskey off the table as Isaac slid into the seat on the left.

“Couldn’t have stated it better myself,” Isaac said looking up at the smog covered sky. They sat in silence enjoying the quiet after the hectic day.

“Called Erica. She agreed to be your fake mother,” Derek announced.

“I’m going to be Uncle Stan,” Stiles said tilting the bottle towards Derek. He put his glass under it and let the other man fill it until desired.

“I’m going to be marrying the love of my life.”

Derek and Stiles exchanged a glance with each other. They knew exactly what that felt like.

*

“How do I look,” Stiles said spinning around in his tightly fitted suit. Derek gave him a close once over.

“Terrible. Just terrible,” Derek said a smug smirk sliding on his face at Stiles’ undignified gasp. He turned towards him hands on his hips.

“Well you sir look so awful I could—Fuck it I wanna suck your dick right now. We should dress up more.”

“Trust me, that’ll be in the immediate future.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You talking about the cruise?”

“Isaac that little bastard.”

Stiles came over and sat on Derek’s lap throwing his arms up and around him.

“I found the tickets on the table before you were able to hide them.”

“Damn,” Derek leaned in for a hard kiss. Stiles nibbled at his lip as he pulled away.

“Sorry, babe, I would love a quickie but I gotta grab your wife from the airport,” Stiles said patting his shoulder and getting off of him.

“I have to say I’m much more interested in you, Uncle Stan.”  
            Stiles added some sway to his hips as he exited the room. Derek’s lips twitched in an almost smile. Derek came out after the front door closed and walked into the kitchen to see how dinner was—shit Scotts cooking Mexican food in short-short jeans cutoffs.

“Scott we can’t eat taco’s in business suits, and please, for the love of god, put on the nice slacks, button up and vest I handed you this morning,” Derek hissed.

“It makes my junk feel weird,” Scott whined. Derek called upon all the sources of humanity and goodwill in his being not to kill Scott at that moment.

“What? You mean the fact that they are loose enough that you can actually feel your balls for the first time in years?”

Scott tried to puppy dog his way out of his duty.

“Finish dinner and put on the fucking clothes,” Derek growled stalking away to Isaac’s room.

Isaac was sitting on the edge of his bed tugging at his hair. Derek leaned on the door frame watching him roll around in guilt.

“Nerves?”

“They’re going to be a half an hour early,” Isaac responded. Derek’s eyes widened.

“Wha…”

“They will be here in less than an hour,” Isaac said rocking himself. Derek pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Stiles to tell him to leave Erica they didn’t have enough time. He didn’t add that he really needed them to be there.

“Go get Scott dressed,” Derek ordered pulling him off the bed and dragging his fingers through the kids curly hair fixing it for him. “Stiles at least should be back. Then at least they’ll meet most of the family.”

Isaac took a large gulp of air. Derek watched him proudly march out of the room and start a shouting match with Scott about how he needed to be dressed yesterday. Derek wished he hadn’t promised to be sober; he was going to need a lot more than tacos and flat smiles to get through the night.

*

The Argents knocked exactly a half an hour early. The three men stood stock still in the living room eyeing each other. Derek nudged Scott towards the door. Scott stuck one last hand down his pants to adjust before he opened the door to let in the guest.

Mr. Argent was cold and political but his wife was pants shittingly terrifying narrowed eyes and blazing red eyes. Derek felt his balls shrivel and he heard Isaac shudder next to him. The terror didn’t last long because when Allison entered Isaac gasped and ran up to her enveloping her in a hug leaving Derek to deal with her parents. He gave his best professional smile and stuck out a hand to shake. Mrs. Argent took and squeezed it so tight in the quick jerk of a shake they had that Derek questioned whether or not she broke his hand.

“Nice to meet you _Mrs._ and Mr. Argent,” Derek said subtly shaking his hand out to regain feeling in his fingers.

“The pleasure is ours,” Mr. Argent replied his tone icy. Derek silently offered them a seat that they both took sitting ram rod straight. Derek watched as Allison shooed Scott away and back into the kitchen with furrowed brows.

“So Mr. Hale,” Mrs. Argent started.

“Please call me Derek. I assume since our kids are getting married so soon we are going to see a lot more of each other,” Derek said trying not to let his face fall in horror at the realization that what he was saying was true.

“Yes, well, be that as it is,” she continued, “I was wondering about the club under you. It is rather,” she looked off to the side as if she was trying to think of a word, “flamboyant.”

“Oh! Um…yeah it used to be a coffee shop until new owners took it and turned into what it is now, I just haven’t had the forethought to move in all this time. They don’t bother us we don’t bother them,” Derek lied. Mr. Argent nodded with understanding.

“Have you ever thought about calling a church to protest,” he asked seemingly sincere.

Derek desperately looked around the room for a way to not talk about this. He lived in fucking south Florida nobody went to church and the uniform of the public was roller skates and banana hammocks. Scott came in with some drinks that both the Argents took with a small smile and a thank you and politely leaned over to whisper into Derek’s ear.

            “I think Allison is one of my ex-girlfriends from high school, and I burnt the tacos.”

            Derek’s eye twitched. 

            “Sorry, there’s been an emergency in the kitchen I’ll be back shortly,” he said excusing himself from the awkwardness of the Argents presence. He practically ran with Scott who took the chance to drain the wine bottle in his hand into the kitchen.

            “ _What,_ ” he hissed furiously at Scott, “You burnt our main dish?”

            “Don’t worry the soup and salad should last long enough for me to make some enchiladas with the left over tortillas from lunch but I’ll have no dessert I was planning on making a simple chocolate crème but…” he said twiddling his thumbs nervously. Derek sighed.

            “Call Alexandra from the club, ask if she could drop off some pie from the food store around the corner.”

            “Kay,” Scott said bouncing nervously from toe to toe. They stayed quiet for a bit so Derek could gather his wits about him to find out why he had been so angry in the—

            “Oh, my god,” Derek grumbled smack Scott outside the head. Scott yelped and looked at the floor in shame. “One, what the fuck is wrong with you? Two is Allison going to be a problem?”

            “I’m sorry that I didn’t make the connection of Allison Argent the Senators daughter to Allison Argent my first girlfriend. No. I think we are just going to tip toe around the subject until Isaac finds out because then it becomes whole other roll of awkward with the exes if you know what I mean.”

            Derek narrowed his eyes. Allison was two years older than Isaac. Scott was four and they hired him when he was eighteen and if he was saying what Derek thinks he’s saying…Derek stomped on his foot.

            “Make the enchiladas and don’t even hint about the fact that you slept with my underage son and we might make it through the night without murder,” Derek threatened leaving the kitchen. He hears Scott let out a pained “Aye-aye captain.”

            He settles down on a chair in the living room watching Isaac and Allison discuss school with her parents. Allison smiled at him as he sat down.

            “Nice to meet you Mr. Hale,” she said showing off her dimples.

            “Nice to meet you to, darling,” Derek replied warmly. She seemed sweet.  Or at least sweeter than her unbearably awkward parents. “Dinner’s going to be ready in a moment, and I was hoping we could move to the dining room.” he said addressing the room at large. They all nodded happily and got up but not before there was a knock at the door.

            Senator Argent looked at him with distant amounts of disapproval.

            “Were you expecting someone,” she said coldly.

            “Just my wife,” he said with a saccharine grin. He was doing this for the vacation. He was doing this for the vacation. He jogged up and opened the door to find Stiles in her Jane get up.

            “Hello, darling,” she exclaimed coming in by hugging Derek then shoving past him. Isaac and him made eye contact over everyone’s greetings and just gaped at each other. Scott stumbled in from the kitchen took a cursory glance at the scene turned around and waved the whiskey from the opening. Sobriety was not in anyone’s future tonight. Derek tilted his head in that direction and Isaac nodded and followed dragging Allison with him. The Argents meanwhile succumbed to the heady bubbly personality that was Jane Hale.

            “The fuck?” Isaac whispered furiously chugging the whiskey. Scott stole it from his hand and took a long gulp. Derek slipped it from Scott and poured it delicately into a tumbler and knocking it back quickly and refilling it. Allison stood in a daze.

            “I don’t know. I didn’t tell them to come,” Derek said after swallowing his second glass.

            “Them,” Allison asked looking at Scott with narrowed eyes.

            “That woman out there is usually my husband Stiles,” Derek explained huskily knocking back is fourth drink. The world was becoming pleasantly soft. Thank fucking god.

            “What?” Allison said. Scott patted her on the back sympathetically.

            “They’re gender fluid,” Isaac explained. He ripped the alcohol from Derek and started his marathon chug once again.

            “I don’t follow.” Her eyebrows scrunched up.

            Isaac and Derek both opened their mouths to explain in the speech executed by Stiles herself multiple times when the person herself walked in.

            “The fuck are you twat-waffles doing,” she asked voice low and angry.

            “Genderfluids?” Allison said blankly. Derek scrubbed his face. Isaac mimicked his movement. Sasha came up and grabbed her hands in her own.

            “Darling, sometimes I’m male like I am now, sometimes I’m female, and sometimes I don’t give a fuck,” he said serenely. His expression became grim and angry. “I’m sure you’re a lovely person but right now I fucking hate your guts. Go tell your parents we are discussing the lack of dessert while I deal with my boys and try not to murder your family, mm-kay?”

            He patted her cheek in a maternal fashion. Allison’s eyes grew cold and strong as she nodded and set out on her duty.

            “Lovely girl you have there Isaac,” Stiles said before punching him in the arm. “I swear if I weren’t so invested in your well-being I’d throttle you.”

            Derek gently pulled Stiles away from Isaac who was rubbing his arm with a wounded expression. “You’re doing so good baby. We just came in here to have a little breakdown while our plans changed.”

            Stiles leaned against him.       

            “Does my makeup look alright?”

            “Yes.” Derek kissed his cheek.

            “Let’s go out there.” Isaac stated with a determined expression marching past them. Stiles shrugged rolling his shoulders and getting back into character and strutting out. Derek followed him and tried not to be utterly charmed with his boys.

*

            “You have such intriguing plates where did you get them,” Chris asked trying to break the stony silence between the Stilinski-Hales and the Argents.

“Mexico. It’s where we got Jorge too,” Derek said biting back the sarcasm in his voice. Isaac kicked him under the table and Scott seems unfazed when he walks out and drops off the enchiladas.

Stiles gave him a glare before picking up the conversation and completely entrancing the Argents in what Derek is assuming are a mix of horror and fascination. The dinner topics revolve around World War I to Young Adult literature. Chris, Allison, and Isaac pipe in through his long rambles upon the topics, while Derek stays silent with occasional glances at the Senator who just sits coldly at her edge of the table seemingly bored. Derek doesn’t buy it given how much her jaw is tensing.

They finish dinner with only one minor wardrobe malfunction with Stiles’ wig. Derek always warned him to not flip his hair so much. They are all in the living room enjoying a nice cup of wine when shit finally goes to hell. The best part is that Stiles didn’t even start it.

Chris had been fawning almost dramatically over Stiles the Senator closing off more and more to conversation. Derek kept drinking until he was properly smashed and having an actually decent conversation with his son’s fiancé.

“Isaac, what an interesting name, where’s it from?” the senator asked loudly over the hushed conversation. Stiles turned and put on his best bitch face.

“Bible,” he answered saccharine. Isaac choked on his tongue and Derek gently patted him on the back. Isaac never mastered the poker face.

“I’m sure. What’s your profession?”

“Acting,” Stiles said with a smile. Derek just inhaled rolling his eyes and preparing for the backlash. There was a sharp inhale across the room and Allison stiffened her shoulders reaching her ears.

            “Why won’t you look at me like that,” Mrs. Argent sniffed before breaking into sobs. Derek caught Stiles’ eye across the room and the other man shrugged. What in the _fuck_? Allison quickly whispered in Isaac’s ear and Isaac’s face turning crimson. What?

            Chris got up using Stiles head as leverage and slipping the wig off. He hardly even paused before going up to his wife and kissing her hungrily. Now Derek was flushing. _Jesus._

            “Allison why are we part of your parents breeding ritual,” Stiles asked staring in horror at the act. Chris turned violently around and glared at him and soon the Senator was on the same boat. Stiles’ eyes bugged out and he reached up patting his now bald head.

            “Fuuu—”

            There was an awful snort and then Victoria was howling with laughter. Stiles shrugged and pulled off the bald cap and ruffled out his hair. Derek leaned back and subtly put his arm around Stiles’ waist and they waited together for the Argents to collect themselves.

            “Oh, god, I haven’t laughed that hard since I was a child,” Victoria said wiping her eyes. Stiles opened his mouth to comment but Derek pinched him hard on his thigh.

            “Well we shall be leaving,” she said getting up after taking her husband’s hand, “Common, let’s leave the cestpool while we still have a chance to laugh it off.

            Stiles gestured angrily saying, _see! See Derek? See what you did?_ Derek was much too drunk for conversation and gave him a sub verbal grunt. The Argents were on the door steps and turned waiting for their daughter. Allison looked at them then Isaac and then Scott. Stiles hit Derek as if he hadn’t already caught on.

            “I think I’ll stay here,” she said solidly. Victoria raised an icy eyebrow. Allison swallowed. “They seem like wonderful people. Derek’s a great man and Stiles is obviously a very charismatic…whatever, and I just don’t think we should write them off.”

            Stiles sniffed and stood up pulling Allison into a hug and Derek gave her a soft smile over his shoulder.

            “Also while we’re on the topic, Scott’s my ex-boyfriend,” she mumbled into Stiles’ shoulder. Victoria gasped.

            “ _He’s_ the guy you were sneaking out to see during high school.”

            “You too!”

            “Scott you little slut!”

            “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.”

            Victoria threw up her hands and opened the door then immediately slammed it closed. Whatever noise that had erupted went silent.

            “The press is outside.”

            Stiles let go of Allison sauntered up to Senator Argent and slung a heavy arm over her shoulder grabbing Chris on his way.

            “Well that just about sums up the night. We’ll see you again never—” Derek dragged him away just before his hand reached the door knob.

            “No,” he grunted clearly, “I have a better idea.”

            “Guys there are news cars on our street,” Isaac squeaked. Derek turned and did not stumble. He was quite proud of himself.

            “My idea fixes that too,” he enunciated. Stiles looked impressed.

            “Wow, this is the most coherent I have ever seen you this drunk.”

            “Shaddup,” Derek slushed, “ _We_ are going to get the Argents through the Birdcage.”

            “What,” the Senator shrieked, “We’ll be burned at the stake if they catch us there.”

            Derek grinned dopily.

            “Not if they can’t recognize you, darling,” he said patting her cheek, “Stiles go get your wigs.”

            Stiles grinned maliciously.  “With pleasure.”

Epilogue:

            The wedding was beautiful. Stiles sobbed through the whole thing and Derek pretended that his eyes weren’t watering. Scott looked absolutely giddy as one of Allison’s bridesmaids. Derek did not think about Scott and Kira’s upcoming two week vacation and how they were absolutely not going to Italy with Allison and Isaac. He hated the kid enough as the twink they hired to clean the house no use completely wanting to skewer the man. Stiles did not complain about Lydia’s dress being a hideous shade of maroon, while Lydia said it was a deep scarlet. They took color coordination tests and had entire pigments of red memorized over the month long argument. They politely watched their son get married to the second scariest female they had ever met. Allison was a sweet heart. But she’d also chop off your testicles and shove them down your throat if you looked at her wrong. Not surprising since she was birthed from the number one on the scariest women Stiles and Derek had ever met.

            The Argents thankfully toned down the Bible thumping but they also haven’t talked to the Stilinski-Hale’s since they left the Birdcage in full drag. Stiles and Derek blackmailed them into agreeing to the wedding with pictures. The Senator spat at them. They fully expected to never speak to the Argents again until Chris cornered them at the reception.

            “Hello,” he said with a large friendly grin. Stiles leaned back with a modest hand placed on her chest.

            “Hi,” Derek greeted, with just as false a smile. Chris swallowed looking awkward.

            “I wanted to thank you for getting me and my wife out of that sticky situation,” he said with a sincerity that surprised Derek.

            “You’re welcome, it’s no problem. Thank you for letting our children marry.”

            “And no longer calling us devil worshippers,” Stiles chipped in. Derek sighed exasperated.

            “That was nice too.”

            Chris nodded then wandered off, probably trying to find a very drunk Victoria. Stiles tugged on Derek’s suit jacket.

            “That was almost sweet wasn’t it?”

            “Yeah.” Derek said a little dazed. A hand reached up to turn his face towards his husbands. Stiles smiled at him with a happy smile.

            “Wanna blow this joint and go watch Supernatural season four?”

            Derek leaned in and kissed him.

            “Yeah, that sounds wonderful.”


End file.
